


A Better Fate Than Wisdom

by coricomile



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 23:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11793753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coricomile/pseuds/coricomile
Summary: When they've finished eating, Sid puts the dishes in the sink and herds Geno upstairs. There's one last routine to close out the season, to prove that it's really over.





	A Better Fate Than Wisdom

**Author's Note:**

> Lol I started writing this right after they won the Cup, but I am not good at the being timely. Mostly i just wanted to celebrate those horrific beards being banished for another year.

Sid wakes up with a hangover, dry mouth, and a sticky, flaky patch on his stomach that is definitely dried jizz. If he tries, he can sort of remember Geno shoving him onto the bed and giving him possibly the world's messiest blowjob, but mostly Sid's just impressed they were still sober enough to get it up. He considers just laying there until the ache in his temples finally goes away, but everything stinks like sweat and booze and it's making his stomach turn. 

When he opens his eyes, he's met with one of Geno's more excellent cases of bedhead and, less excitingly, he notices the whistling snoring. Geno's nose isn't as swollen as it was yesterday, but the friendly-fire gash still stands out sharply, the skin around it already turning green. Sid runs a finger over the raised edge of the cut and resigns himself to dealing with the snoring for the foreseeable future. It's not the worst thing he's ever put up with for Geno's sake. 

He spends a long time in the shower, letting the steam build up in the faint of hope of sweating out the last of the booze. There's a party at Mario's tonight, and the parade tomorrow, and whatever else is thrown at them, but none of it matters. Sid is a three time Stanley Cup Champion. He's still young. The team is solid, and the Wilkes-Barre kids are getting better every day. He can do it again before he has to retire. Three more, he thinks as he finally turns the water off. Six is a good, round number. 

He makes coffee and fried potatoes and bacon for lunch. Grease is the best hangover cure he's ever found, and the smell is enough to bring Geno down into the kitchen. He yawns in the doorway, scratching his bare stomach above the sagging waistband of his shorts. 

"Up early," Geno says. He waits until Sid's turned the burner off to drape himself over Sid's back, heavy and too warm. "Such early."

"It's after noon," Sid says, because it _is_. He hasn't slept in until noon since- well, since this time last year. God, that's a great thought. 

"Early," Geno says again. He presses a kiss behind Sid's ear, hands settling on Sid's hips. "You ruin morning champion sex."

"You smell like wet, drunk dog," Sid says, mostly because Geno gets hilariously affronted about the smallest things, and Sid is not as nice as everyone thinks he is. "You should take a real shower. Just wiping down in the sink isn't going to cut it."

"I shower after beards," Geno says, sneaking a piece of bacon from the pan. Sid thwaps him with the spatula and feels like his mother. 

"You're so lazy."

"I need new boyfriend," Geno says, pinching Sid's hip. "Someone who praise me." He grabs two forks from the drawer and retreats toward the den. "I pick Olli. He cute."

"Olli's ten years younger than you," Sid calls back, grabbing the pan and the pot holder thing Catherine had given him after Tanger ratted him and Geno out for their weird breakfast habits. There was a time Sid was an actual adult and didn't eat breakfast straight from the pan. Geno's not always the best influence. Sid can admit this. 

"Just mean he have good stamina," Geno says. He's already cleared everything off of the coffee table and shoved pillows onto the floor for them to sit on. Sid's mother would be horrified, and Sid should probably feel a little shame, but he likes sitting on the floor next to Geno while they eat their breakfast, arms and legs bumping together. 

"I'm going to tell him you want to sleep with him," Sid threatens as he sets the pot holder and the pan on the coffee table. 

"He be flattered," Geno says, dropping a hand down to grab at his dick through his sweats. He's so dumb and Sid loves him so, so much. 

They watch a _How I Met Your Mother_ re-run while they eat. Sid's stomach finally feels like it's not trying to escape his body and Geno's got one arm thrown over his shoulders, eating with his other hand. Sid doesn't like to plan too far into the future- his schedule is ever changing, and there is no time or reason to plan farther than the next year- but he can see them still doing this in twenty years, older and creakier, but happy in the simplest of ways. 

When they've finished eating, Sid puts the dishes in the sink and herds Geno upstairs. There's one last routine to close out the season, to prove that it's really over. 

"You first or me?" Geno asks when they get to the bathroom. He rubs a hand over his goatee, flattening it down. Sid points to the toilet and goes to the linen closet to grab supplies. He sets everything on the edge of the counter and stops up the sink. "Is not that bad this year."

"It's still pretty bad," Sid says as he fills the sink. Geno sits on the closed seat of the toilet and pulls his phone out of his pocket to take a selfie. "Still, I'm going to be a little sad to see it go."

"Because it make me handsome," Geno says, smug and as vain as ever. 

"Keep telling yourself that," Sid says. "I'm starting. Shut up."

Sid clips away the longest bits of the goatee with the little pair of scissors and then shoves a wet hand towel over Geno's face. Geno kicks him, but it was totally worth it. He spreads shaving cream over Geno's skin and wets the razor in the sink. Going through the motions is soothing, easy. It really is over now, and for a little while that's okay. Ending the season with the win is always going to be the best way, and Sid's going to enjoy his summer to the best of his abilities. 

When Sid puts two fingers on Geno's jaw, Geno tips his head back obediently. Sid carefully strips away the goatee with short, even strokes of the razor, washing it out in the sink after every other pass. It's way more careful than he'd be with his own beard, but he wants to do this right. Geno trusts him not to cut him. Sid isn't going to let him down. 

Geno looks leagues better without the facial hair. Sid wipes at the smears of shaving cream he'd missed with the hand towel and leans in to press a kiss to Geno's smooth cheek. He looks younger, less tired somehow. Geno grins and pinches Sid's ass.  
"Let me see," he says. 

They swap places and Geno double checks himself in the mirror. Last year was the first time Sid had gotten to give this little gift back, so he doesn't have nearly the same level of experience as Geno does, but Geno gives him a thumbs up and grabs a new razor. Sid scratches at his beard one last time. He'll be sad to see his go, too. Back to the old grind with a fresh start. 

Geno goes over Sid's beard with the electric clippers first. It makes the metal in Sid's jaw vibrate and he wants to clench his teeth to make it stop, but that would be a pretty bad move. When Geno finally turns the clippers off, brushing the hair off Sid's chest and onto the floor, the silence is suddenly overwhelming. Sid takes the moment to scratch at his itchy face and the short hairs left over and ignores Geno laughing at him. Sid shakes his head like a dog and is glad he can't see himself in the mirror. 

"One day, you get beard like Rusty," Geno says, eyes bright. Sid gives him the finger. He's a three time Stanley Cup winner. Obviously he doesn't need a great playoff beard for it to still be lucky. "Ready?" Sid nods. 

Geno cleans out the sink and fills it back up, dunking the towel in. He hisses as he pulls it back up and wrings it out, tossing it from hand to hand like that will make it cooler faster. He does this every time, either too stubborn or too impatient to do it any other way, and it feels right, perfect. Some days, when everything is going wrong, Sid wishes Geno would just _think_ before he jumps to action. The rest of the time- the rest of the time, Sid's happy to be along for the ride. There is never anything even approaching a dull moment with Geno in his life. 

The towel is hot against Sid's skin as Geno holds it against his face. Sid closes his eyes as Geno lifts it up and off. He doesn't pretend that any of this a regular thing to do, even with a boyfriend. But Geno's hands ate gentle as he spreads the shaving cream over Sid's jaw, and Sid feels like all the weight, all the exhaustion, is finally being knocked loose from him, and it's good. 

Geno's gotten a lot better at this over the years. The first time, right after their first Cup, he'd been so gentle Sid had had to finish the job off himself later. Geno had asked if he could, bright eyed and a little hung over and the best thing Sid had seen in his entire life, and- Well. Everyone knows not to start stuff with Sid if they don't plan on following through for a long time. 

Sid closes his eyes at the first touch of the razor and lets himself drift. Geno hums a little under his breath as he works, his hand warm against Sid's cheek as he tugs at the skin to hold it tight. He's possibly more tone-deaf than Sid himself is, which is saying something, but the quiet buzz of noise is nice anyway. Not that he'll ever tell Geno that. He'd never live it down. 

"Much better," Geno says when he's finished. He strokes his thumb over Sid's cheek and smiles. "I miss your face. Forget what it look like under dead rat." Sid laughs and drags Geno down to kiss him. It's always strange, right after, to feel smooth skin instead of the ever present tickle of whiskers, but Sid is more than happy to reacquaint himself with the feeling. "Shower?"

"I already showered," Sid says. "Some of us don't sleep in until one in the afternoon." Geno rolls his eyes and reaches down to squeeze Sid's dick through his sweats. "I could take another one, though."

"So smart," Geno says with a grin. He gives Sid's dick another little squeeze and steps back to kick his shorts off. 

Sid tries not to live in excess. He still drives the Range Rover he bought when he was a rookie, still looks for sales when he goes grocery shopping, still flies coach if he's not with the team. He'll never hurt for money, but he saves what he can for the kids he and Geno have been considering adopting in the future. Both of them know what it was like to watch their parents struggle to give them good lives. 

Even so, Sid had gone along when Geno had suggested getting the master bathroom redone. Geno is a hedonist through and through, which Sid doesn't always approve of, but the four grand shower upgrade has definitely earned its keep. There really isn't anything like coming home after a long, hard workout and turning on the jets. Having enough room for the two of them is also pretty great, Sid thinks as he watches Geno stand under the showerhead to rinse off the loose hair clinging to his chest. 

"You owe me blowjob," Geno says, shoving his hair away from his face. He looks good in his gear, looks great in a suit, but Sid thinks naked and wet is probably the best look for him. Even now, at his lowest weight of the year, the power in his body is just so... present. 

"How do I owe you a blowjob?" Sid asks. Geno grabs his by the hips and pulls him under the spray of water, one hand sneaking down to cup Sid's ass. 

"I'm get most playoff points, but you still get Conn Smythe," Geno says, kissing Sid's temple to take the sting of his words away. Sid would have gladly watched Geno lift the Conn Smythe. He deserved it more. "Blowjob is least you can do."

"I think the least I can do is nothing," Sid says. He laughs when Geno pinches his ass on just the wrong side of too hard. 

"I'm definitely call Olli," Geno says. He's half hard between them, the head of his cock brushing against Sid's stomach. 

"I've got the better ass," Sid says, because it's true. "Also, stop talking about Olli when we're naked." Olli is nothing like a child at all, but he's always going to be a rookie to Sid. 

"You blow me, I don't talk at all," Geno says. Sid snorts. 

"Bullshit," he says. Sid has never slept with anyone more chatty in bed than Geno. Not that he's complaining. Geno grins and presses his cock into Sid's hip, shameless and sure that he's going to get his way. They've been together forever, but Sid thinks he's always going to be this into him. He's not complaining about that, either. 

"You like," Geno says. "You think my voice is sexy."

"Oh my god, shut up." Sid wiggles out of Geno's hold, ignoring the laughter that chases him down to the tile. He _does_ think that Geno's voice is sexy, but if Geno's ego gets any bigger, there won't be room left in the house for anything else.

Sid sucks a kiss into the slick hollow of Geno's hip to distract him from his gloating, chases a trail of water up over the soft pooch of Geno's stomach. Geno complains constantly about his skinny calves and his lack of visible abs, but Sid is endlessly, hopelessly endeared by both. He nips just below Geno's belly button and Geno's cock twitches up just enough to slap against his chin. 

He presses his lips to the bunched skin at the head of Geno's cock before rubbing his cheek against Geno's thigh. Geno runs his fingers through Sid's hair gently, and when Sid looks up Geno's face is soft and fond, the corner of his mouth quirked up. Sid loves him so much that it hurts sometimes. He would give anything- everything- to keep that look aimed at him. If that anything happens to be a blowjob- well. No one's ever doubted Sid's commitment to the cause.

He mouths at the base of Geno's cock, cups the heavy weight of his balls in one hand. He wants to drag it out, wants to spend as much time as possible in this cocoon of warmth, but they've got family in town to entertain and responsibilities outside of the house. There will be time after all the celebration to spend all day in bed. Today, Geno's going to have to deal with fast and dirty. 

Sid licks up Geno's cock and teases his tongue under the foreskin, feeling it pull away as Geno's cock firms all the way up. He wraps his hand around the shaft and goes down quick. Geno's fingers tighten in his hair and he lets out a nasal whine. Sid closes his eyes and chases the taste of Geno's skin under the water. 

It doesn't take long. Geno's low moans echo off the walls and get lost under the sound of the water hitting the tile. His thigh shakes under Sid's hand, the thick muscle hard as rock against Sid's palm. Sid risks a glance up at Geno's face and his cock throbs, heavy and aching between his thighs, at the sight of Geno's parted lips, the darkness of his eyes. He twists his hand around the base of Geno's cock and Geno groans, his whole body going tight as he comes. 

Sid spits towards the drain- he loves Geno, god he loves Geno, but jizz tastes gross and the two times he'd tried to swallow he'd gagged- and reaches down to jerk himself off. Geno strokes his hair through it, mumbling about Sid's mouth, his ass, the way he looks on his knees. Sid presses his mouth against Geno's hip and bites down against it when he comes. 

"Good, Sid," Geno says softly, bending down to kiss him. "You all paid up." Sid snorts and carefully stands up. "Love you."

"Love you, too," Sid says, resting against Geno's chest. When he catches his breath, he makes Geno lean down so Sid can wash his hair. They still take too long, lazy and too indulgent, and they have to scramble to get dressed in order to make it to lunch with their parents on time.

Sid wants to start every summer like this for the rest of his life. If he's very lucky, he just might be able to.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to join me on [tumblr.](http://notyourlovesong.tumblr.com). Also, I am in need of an alpha reader for HBB if anyone is up for having ideas bounced off them


End file.
